Also, I was wondering how the wordwork expression came about, I googled, and found:
- out of the woodwork idiom
Emerging from obscurity or a place of seclusion. It often is put as come (or crawl) out of the woodwork, as in The candidates for this job were coming out of the woodwork. The expression alludes to insects crawling out of the interior wooden fittings of a house, such as baseboards and moldings. [Colloquial; mid-1900s]
Look, you learned something.
So, yeah.....this time the person that found me... Where do I begin about the unpleasantries??? High School...a time of trauma for most. We all know that I'm a bitch, but I can also be a push over. Unless I'm in a 'special' mood, I really don't like to instigate fights/arguments with friends or 'friends'. Now, my family on the other hand, BRING IT BITCHES!!! I have no qualms with them. So in high school, I spent a lot of time being the push over, the abused, and the used by a a lot friends. Lets face it, I was insecure (who wasn't....HELLO HIGH SCHOOL!!!) and I felt like it was such a small pool that if I really did have verbal fisticuffs, there was a real sense of fear about losing friends/'friends' or being ostracized in anyway shape or form.
Anyways, this girl, who shall be called "Slut"(she constantly shared with me sexual escapes she had with her 20yr old neighbor, and it was a little unsettling) I met freshy year. Her BFF, lets call her "Backstabber", played volleyball with a girl from my subdivision that I was friends with (we later were roomies the first 2 years of college-we had some issues, but time and distance is a fabulous thing), who will be called SDF (subdivision friend). Okay... So Slut was BFF's with Backstabber, Backstabber and SDF were playing volleyball together, and I had classed with Backstabber...eventually we are all interwoven together. Slut became jealous of SDF for 'stealing' Backstabber away from her (SDF and Backstabber did A LOT together), then Backstabber got tired of the ultra catholic conservativeness of SDF... drama drama drama... It made for fun times in freshman year. The drama continued, and for me, it was at full capacity my junior year.
Junior year...we had the foreign exchange student (FES, as mentioned previously). FES and SDF did not got along so well. FES and I did not get along so well. But who she did get along with really well out of all my friends/'friends' that I introduced her to was Backstabber and Slut. SDF and I carpooled to school, naturally, FES was riding with us...but there were mornings when Backstabber and Slut would pick her up...they didn't live anywhere near us. Okay, fine whatever... Then the 3 of them would go out, not inviting me. Which kinda hurt. Backstabber and I were really good friends, Slut was just there, but I really liked Backstabber. Backstabber and Slut would just show up at my house, and hang out with FES, never really even acknowledging me or nothing.
QUEUE VIOLENT FEMMES MUSIC.
It was a turbulent time for me. I was angry, hurt, insecure, and seeing RED. Really, I wanted to inflict serious pain on those who were scorning me. Those three were at the top of the list. Really, I wanted FES to get deported and banned from the country.
Mom would tell me (while I locked myself in my room with the Femmes blaring) that she knew that Backstabber and Slut were not going to be good friends for/to me when she first met them, but didn't say anything, because she knew I wouldn't listen. And she's right, I wouldn't have. That was mom's way of reassuring me....being omnipotent, but keeping her revelations to herself, until the time was right, and tell me "I always knew.....but I didn't tell you". She would also tell me that it wasn't the end of the world, I have other friends, blah, blah, blah, and could I please turn down the music.
After last week's "look who I found/found me", I thought I would be set for a while, until yesterday, when SLUT found me. When I saw that name pop up, honestly, I wanted to punch my computer and kill Facebook. I had said back, back, back in the day when I first signed up that if there were those shitty people from my past that wanted to be friends, I'd decline. Well, this is one of those people. And I haven't determined what I'm going to do yet. I think I'm going to decline. But that would just be giving into the hurt high schooler me and not the more grown up 30 year old me.
Decisions, decisions.
Also in the realm of woodworks... I had a dream (my dreams are fucking killing me lately) that was all flashbacky. It was a 5th grade reunion. Again, more turbulent times from my youth.
Prior to moving, I can't really remember any mean spirited girls (there was a brat...but she was just a brat, not really mean mean, but the potential was there). But after starting the 4th grade, and the move, and trying to make new friends and fit in, I saw more meanness. Perhaps I was just more aware, because I was new. But there were, in my subdivision, 2 queen bees that ruled over the other girls our age. We were truly mean to each other, or at least those two lead, and like sheep the rest of us followed. (these were also some of the girls that lent support during some zombie torment). The queen bees teased relentless. I remember bus rides home, sitting with them, and they'd pinch me the whole time (nothing catastrophic, but still mean), until I finally had enough and I punched them (after getting of the bus). We would play "who's your best friend" all the time, when we would get in a circle and pick who our bff was at that moment. Usually the queen bees would say not to pick someone because they didn't like them, and that one person would always go home feeling hurt, and wouldn't be invited to do something with the group until the queen bees liked them again. There were other things that happened, but this isn't group therapy time, and not a pitty party. Plus, who wants to read my rehash??? Let me just say that when the queen bees moved away, I had such an amazing amount of relief. One queen bee moved back during high school, but she didn't acknowledge me, which I was more than fine with.
ANYWAYS....back to the dream....
So, it was the 5th grade reunion. Queens Bees are there, still being mean, evil, and just down right bitches. When they leave their little 'popular 5th graders' group, and come to talk to me, I'm filled with joy (note: SARCASM). They start in bragging about how great their lives are, blah, blah, blah....and then I got pinched in the side. They start laughing. I, ever so eloquently, scream "YOU TWO ARE NOTHING BUT MISERABLE FUCKING BITCHES" and proceed to punch them square in the face. I left the classroom...and woke up, and I WAS HAPPY I punched them.
So now, I'm contemplating the depth of my issues and need for anger management. Because seriously... I need to let go and let God. Why this still bothers me, I don't know. The fragile little L, still is living strong.
Rock out, with your traumatic youth out.
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